“Mav, can you ask Rhone to abduct Harper and bring her to the estate too? I don’t want her to be alone while she’s this behind on sleep,” I blurted.“She’s progressed to sleepwalking.”
“Bloom,”Harper groaned.
“Does he have to abduct her? I don’t think he particularly likes her, and werewolves only abduct people they like,” Maverick said.
“The feeling is mutual, and Rhone doesn’t likeanyone. If he just knocks on the door and refuses to leave until she gets in the car, she’ll get in.”
“You can’t tell him these things,” Harper mumbled.
“I can and will.”
The estate was the only solution. All of Maverick’s werewolves knew how to fight, so she wouldn’t kill them if she devolved andattacked. If Maverick wasn’t letting me go back to the office in the near future, the estate was where I’d be when I got him to give me more blood bags, too.
It was perfect.
Or at least, the only option that didn’t involve my best friend being murdered immediately.
Maverick told the car to call Rhone, and the phone rang.
“I’m putting you on speaker so you can participate in this conversation,” I told Harper.
We all waited.
“What?” Rhone growled, answering just before the call went to voicemail. “You’d better not have bitten her. I told you, you need a?—“
“Chaperone. I’m aware of your consistent lack of trust in me.”
“It’s a lack of trust in your dick.”
“I think that’s worse. Anyway, no, I didn’t bite her yet.”
“Yet?” Rhone was not here for humor when it came to this topic. Which was probably for the best.
“That’s beside the point. I need a favor.”
“You always need a fucking favor.”
“Can you stop by Bloom’s place and refuse to leave until Harper agrees to let you drive her to the estate?”
“Why can’t she drive herself?”
“That’s a good question.” Maverick looked at me in the mirror.
“She hates driving,” I lied. Harper didn’t give a shit about driving.
“Fine. I’ll drive myself,” she said. “It’s better than spending the whole time being glared at by that asshole.”
“Fuckwad is the socially correct term these days,” I put in.
“Cumstain seems even more appropriate,” she grumbled.
“Are they insulting me?” Rhone sounded incredulous.
“Probably. They do that. It’s cute.”
“No, it’s not.” He hung up.
“Does he have something against saying goodbye?” I asked.
